He ground his teeth in helpless, desperate rage. Wild vague assertions of help and protection rose to his lips and died away unuttered, for he knew himself powerless. His heart surged with impotent fury, while she sobbed in his arms in the very abandonment of fear and misery, the natural reaction after the proud restraint of the past few days.
But it was only for a little space; the firm clasp of his hands, the pressure of his arm, gave her the sense of human support and strength that she lacked. In a few minutes the cold terror left her, she was herself again save for backward shudderings at the remembrance of the emotions through which she had passed.
Drawing her hands gently from his grasp, she lifted her white, tear-stained face to his with a smile.
"Thank you," she said simply. "I know not what ailed me. 'Twas mighty foolish and yet 'twas terrible enow," she added with a shudder.
He laid his hand on hers again firmly, and she did not withdraw it. For a few minutes they sat in silence.
Presently Barbara's glance wandered to the far end of the shed, where the group of drinkers sat.
"They are to die to-morrow. I would I were a man, and knew no fear," she murmured enviously.
He smiled.
"Think you they know no fear? That is the very height of fear that dare not face the morrow, but seeks forgetfulness thus."
"Could I forget thus?" she asked.